Point of Grace
by Killraven
Summary: [AU, Fantasy, 6x9] Legend speaks of the great warrior who will save the world from destruction at the hands of the beast Epyon.


Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of it's characters. The execs in charge at Bandai, Sunrise, Sotsu, and TV Asahi do. Nor do I own _Into the Fire_. That belongs to Sarah McLachlan. 

Warnings: The story is rated primarily for **violence/gore** and a fair amount of **angst** on everyone's parts, but there is also **language**, **religious themes**, **non-citrusy romance**, **flashbacks**, and **possible OOCness** on some of the characters [specifically Trowa]. As mentioned in the summary, this is a Noin-centric fic, but the other characters of gundam have significant roles in the story. Hence, I am not cutting out on the G-Boys, or even any of the more minor characters like Howard. -_-;;   


  


"I will stare at the sun until its light doesn't blind me   
I will walk into the fire 'til its heat doesn't burn me   
And I will feed the fire"   
-_Into the Fire_, Sarah McLaclan 

Point of Grace   
Prologue   


  


An oily smirk flashed in the stale air of the dimly lit stone structure, clearly showing which warrior was destined to die that day. 

_Only one more._

Heat rolled off of her body in waves, a testament to the inner power that she held. The loss of the bond between Sword and Shield was still fresh in her mind, but in truth, she did not need it anymore. What intense energy she now possessed was hers alone, and she knew that it would be more than enough to help carry her through the task that lay ahead. 

_Concentrate._

A bead of sweat fell from her brow, contacting with and sliding down the skin between nose and cheek, rolling up over the curved incline of tightened lips before dripping off the stubborn set of her chin. Determination permeated her being, defining the straight and set stance she sported as well as the cutting edge to her glare. Barely repressed rage lingered below her cold and controlled demeanor, burning with the intense desire for vindication and fueling the deadly power of her will with its heat. 

_Focus._

The tension in the air was tangible, possessing the potency to choke the weak and paralyze the fearful. Everything had gone deathly still the second the ancient rite had been invoked, almost as if a state of suspended animation had engulfed the chapel of long ago. They shared a heated glance, samurai and outlaw, knowing full well that only one of them would walk out of this sacred place with breath still in his or her lungs. 

_Patience._

Her muscles screamed for release as she stood motionless on the sandstone cobbles. But pain was an extraneous sensation for which she had no use, and thus she ignored it. Purposely flexing her back so acutely that it would go unnoticed, she retained her stiff and at-the-ready posture. Timing was of the essence in this measured dance with death and she was wary of giving away a single second in her opponent's favor. Such a transgression would surely equate suicide. 

Sunlight streamed through the newly shattered windows of the aged shrine, a shaft of which descended directly upon the gleaming and polished steel of the enemy's long katana. The blade was formidable by any stretch of the imagination, yet she knew that it posed no threat to her. And that was what made all the difference in this age-old ceremony. 

A sleek ebony eyebrow raised in mocking amusement as her glare took on an air of challenging defiance. In response, the samurai's shoulders squared, giving her all the information she needed. It would not be long now. 

_One._

A moment ticked by, pregnant with the strained emotion that seemed to surround the two warriors, and filled the inside of the long-forgotten place. Her grip tightened around the hilt of her blade, causing her knuckles to turn the palest shade of white. 

_Two._

Breath filled her lungs, relaxing her control for a moment and allowed the full intensity of her power to rage inside her. Her ears opened to the sounds around her and she felt her energy rise up within, covering her in a suit of mental armor. 

_Three._

Feeling the full range of protection that her own spirit now produced, her mind both eased and strengthened within the comforting safety provided by her own abilities. Sensation within and around her melded into one unified consciousness of thought, making vessel and weapon one in the same. 

_Now._

Lightning-quick reflexes kicked into action at the first sound of the strangled and decidedly male battle cry. Legs pumping with long, yet measured strides, she met her opponent's charge head on, keeping her gaze in front of her as arms locked firmly into place at her right side. In her hands, she held the razor-sharp edge that had meant oblivion for countless others, and would take yet another life before the dust settled once more. 

But the truth of the matter was that the strength of her sword came nowhere near to matching the power of the true weapon she had in her power. That came from within her own mind and was more deadly than the Emperor's elite army. From the focused will of a Blood there was no protection. 

Face contorted into a look of arrogance, the samurai came charging closer, his arms raising his sword above his head in preparation to deliver a blow. In one fluid motion, she side-stepped the soldier and brought her arms up swiftly. Steel tasted the hot wetness of blood as her sword connected with his front mid-section. A jerk tugged at her hands momentarily as the blade continued its path through sinew and innards, meeting the hard bone of spine and ribs. Dark red blood splashed the worn and weed-cracked flagstones at her feet, as she focused the energy in her arms and drove through the solid obstacle, leaving the samurai in two, cleanly cut halves. Momentum propelled her forward a few more feet while dull, twin thuds sounded behind her. 

Gracefully, she drew to a halt with arms still outstretched, retaining the habitual stance of the warrior as she waited for any sign of further danger to show itself. Silence peacefully rained down around her, disturbing not the dust motes floating in the illuminated air while the small shadows remained confined to their respective boundaries. The only presence that remained in the small chapel was that of herself. 

Convinced, she brought her blade down through the air quickly, turning the sharp edge at the last second before completion. It was an old ritual that had been taught to any person of military training, and it effectively cleaned her sword of the blood it had tasted just moments before. A few seconds later, and the weapon was once again sheathed at her side. 

A heavy sigh escaped her then, as all the tension in her muscles fled her body. No longer did she hold herself with the poised fierceness of an experienced warrior. Rather, her shoulders slumped slightly and her steps were small and slow as she moved back a few paces, bespeaking of the tiredness that she felt. Her mind, however, had yet to surrender its deadly edge. She had molded her emotions into a mental blade all of its own in order to be able to defeat the sheer number of men that had attacked her and her companion earlier. As it was, the anger and the determination that had allowed her to take so many lives this morning still thrummed through her, and she knew that if she didn't bring it under control that it would start to feed on her own mind. 

She inhaled deeply as the low tingle of nervousness settled into her bones. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her energy, and steeled herself for the possible outcome. Coming down from the self-induced emotional high of the magic had never been an easy thing. It was a complicated process that left room for too many errors; too many errors that could quickly become disastrous. With practiced skill she formed her focal image, a white dot upon a black square. Steadfastly holding the mental picture, she called upon her energy again, drawing it closer within her grasp. 

Warmth settled in her hands and pooled into her wrists before slowly flowing up the inside of her arms. This was it, the physical touch of her own power. Focusing on the white dot within her mind, she drew it closer still. Heat stole across her back and down her legs as her muscles loosened with the magic. Her frame shook from the feeling of it all as she drew in another breath. The delicious ache was beginning to well up in her palms, and she felt the overwhelming need to reach out and touch something, if only to caress the same dormant energy that lied in all things. 

Another tremor ran through her as the invisible dome of power sealed itself around her taut form. The first leg of the ritual was now complete, and she allowed the dangerous edge of anger and determination to bleed over into the well of energy. Air left her lungs in one sharp exhale as her rage exploded in one fiery burst of emotion. She could feel it then, the magic that she had held tight for so long radiating out from her in one potent wave after another. The sensation was heady, and she was easily intoxicated by it. 

She took herself a step farther then, and drew even more energy into her hands. The release of anger that followed was exquisite, her fury burning away at higher temperature than she had ever imagined. But with the increase in power consumed, the accompanying ache that resided in her palms grew as well. She itched to touch something, whether physically or mentally it did not matter. All she knew was that this feeling was driving her to absorb the nearest source of energy available to her. Instinctively, her mind immediately reached out towards the magical force of the bond. This had been a deep source of power for her in the past, as the life-force of her Shield had resided on the other side. 

However, as the first tendrils of her energy touched the barrier of the bond, her world exploded in pain. The dome of power surrounding her offered her zero protection as the sharp needles of magic tore straight through it, rending it almost in half. All energy bled from her within a matter of seconds, leaving her naked and defenseless against the archaic power boring into her life-force. She dropped to her knees and let out a shrill scream as the fire of her anger imploded and turned on her, burning her with her own emotion. 

She was essentially as helpless as a fish out of water. Her limbs felt as though they were being pinched and wrenched at unimaginable angles, and she thrashed about on the ground in a vain attempt to force the pain to subside. Her lungs burned for air as her chest spasmed irregularly under the onslaught, leaving her fighting for the slightest breath. Any attempts at rallying a scrap of energy with which to combat the magic of the bond were quickly thwarted. She writhed in agony on the cobblestone floor, her head pounding with a crushing beat. 

Coherent thought had long since left her, and her mind raced wildly to eliminate the pain wracking her body. Fear laced through her, pricking her nerve endings to even more heightened levels of sensitivity. The inexorable torture the magic was inflicting on her was beginning to warp her mind, causing images from years long past to suddenly spring up in her memory. With frightening accuracy, she found herself reliving moments of her past that she would have rather to have left forgotten. Tears burned behind her eyes as she once again experienced hot anger at General Treize's words as he humiliated her in front of the Emperor for her lackluster performance. Before she had a chance to choke back the frustrated lump of prideful rage in her throat, she found herself drowning in sadness as the old memories of her first days alone on the road had risen up and seized her. 

A sob wormed its way out of her throat then, forcing what little breath she held from her lungs. A pitifully small cry followed as the memories continued to twist her mind. The accompanying emotions flooded her at an amazing speed, shifting without warning from one to another after a mere matter of seconds. She felt as though she was being wildly hurtled towards some destination of which she did not know, nor could she stop herself from moving forward to it. 

No sooner had the sensation crossed her mind, did the world and her heart come to a complete and utter stop. 

_Gods above…_

She found herself staring directly at a pair of striking blue eyes that were vaguely familiar to her. Panic clutched at her chest painfully as she sucked in a ragged gasp. No longer did she see the small chapel before her face, but out in the middle of a clogged street of the capital city. The terrified cries of the crowd of onlookers filled her ears, fueling her own growing sense of severe dread. Urgency caused her throat to constrict as she saw the flames lick up the side of the heavy wood, eating its way over the foundations of the building. She looked up at the window again, catching sight of those blue eyes, noticing the element of paralyzed numbness that permeated them. 

_No. Not again._

Giving out a small cry of frustration, she took off, running at top speed towards the door of the large smithy. Fire consumed the building at a maddening pace. She only had a few moments left to save him before the floor below his feet would give out. This she knew from the many nightmares that had plagued her over the years. She had failed the first time, but now she was going to set things straight and right the wrong that should never have occurred. 

She kicked up small clods of dirt with her feet as she raced towards the door. People passed in front of her, running with buckets of water, vainly trying to put the blaze down. It was useless. The fire was already spreading to the second floor, the flames visible through the window the boy stood in front of. She weaved through the melee, stopping abruptly here and jumping over a fallen townsperson there. The door was only a few feet away now, and she calculated that she still had enough time to make her rescue. 

Then, suddenly, came the hulking figure of the blacksmith, hurtling towards her at an equally fast pace. His hands reached out and grabbed her by the arms as his body continued to move forward, throwing them both to the ground. She groaned as her chest hit the hard ground below and was pinned underneath the heavy weight of the man. 

_No._

She kicked at him, struggling to worm her way out from underneath him, but he held her fast, pulling her arms behind her back as he sat on her legs. Frustration burned at her. Couldn't he see that boy was about to die? She had to save him; she was his only chance. Squirming, she shouted curses at him, demanding that he let her up. But the blacksmith remained in place, pushing her down further into the mud of the street in an attempt to quell her. Tears of frustration streaming down her face, she felt her anger begin to rise. She had to get to the boy. There wasn't much time left before the flooring would cave and he would be killed. The fingers of the blacksmith cut into her wrists painfully as he gripped them harshly. If he was not going to allow her to reach the boy, then she would have to get rid of him. She knew that she had the power to buck him off her; she could feel it in her bones. 

Her lungs burned for the air that he had driven out of her when he had tackled her, but she ignored the pain. Scowling and gritting her teeth, she concentrated on the strange energy inside of her, using her anger as a means to propel her forward. Within seconds, she could feel the warmth of the force spreading. It crawled up her arms, moved through her legs, and swept over her back. She could feel it pour into her hands, welling up in her palms with the expectation of imminent usage. 

Feeling her muscles come to life with the powerful force, she asked the blacksmith one more time to let her up. His only response was push even more of his weight onto her arms and shove her even further into the mud. Biting back a sharp cry of pain, she closed her eyes and let him have it. The world around her melted and dissolved from her consciousness as she released her energy in one massive blast. 

For one long moment, her whole world consisted of nothing but heat and the immense power flowing from her fingertips. 

When her awareness finally returned to the environment around her, silence greeted her ears. The pain pressing on her arms and chest was gone, to her slight surprise. Cracking an eye open, the worn surface of a broken flagstone came into her view. She rolled over onto her back, eyes darting around the ancient and crumbling structure. 

_What the hell?_

She was back in the small chapel. The blacksmith, the boy, and all traces of the fire had completely disappeared. Her mind reeled, trying to make sense of everything through the lingering fuzziness of pain that surrounded it. Suppressing a small groan at the ache in her limbs, she pushed herself up onto her feet, turning around in order to confirm that she was indeed in the religious ruin. Confused, she ran a hand back through her short hair. 

_I see. Was it really all a hallucination?_

The backlash from the magic of the bond had been real enough. She was still feeling the effects of the intense pain that had coursed through her as her body involuntarily shook. The battle was also real too. The bodies of the fallen soldiers still littered the ground; some of them still oozing crimson fluid onto the cobblestones. 

But of the scene with the boy and the fire, there was no trace. 

_That's it, then. I imagined it all. Which means that he's still dead._

She swallowed, disappointment slumping her shoulders as sadness trickled through her. She had been so close - a mere three feet from the doorway. But she had still failed. The blacksmith had tackled her in her hallucination just as he had during the real event of the past, keeping her from needlessly endangering herself. She had only been a girl at the time, and her chances of being killed while trying to save the boy were higher than the chance that she would actually be able to rescue him. 

Still, the pain of failure burned. She should have been able to save him just as she should have been able to save the only other person important to her. Her mage - her Shield - had given his life for her today in order to ensure that she would be able to get away safely. She turned her head at that, blinking quickly in order to keep the tears back. She wasn't about to let herself break down, not right now at least. There was still a job of grave importance at hand, and she focused on that fact as she brought her emotions under control. The Emerald Orb was still in the hands of thieves. The Emperor had trusted in her to retrieve and return it to the palace grounds. She was not about to fail him. 

Nor was she about to let her Shield to have died in vain. 

Firming her resolve, she cast one last look about the chapel, checking for any items she might have lost during the fight. When she saw nothing, she made her way to the entrance, not even bothering to verify the identities of her attackers. The truth was that she had no need to. The effective fighting style of General Tsuberov's men was distinct from those of other soldiers. She would have to inform the Emperor of his dissent. 

This she all considered and planned as she stepped out into the day. Above her, a flock of birds set to the sky, disturbed by her sudden appearance. Holding a hand to her forehead, she shielded her eyes from the sun and began the long walk back to where her comrade had fallen. It was when she turned that the small marking on her right shoulder became visible. The tattoo was of a number like that which all Blood warriors wore. In the early afternoon light, one could clearly make out its dark shape against the tint of her skin: 

It was the mark of Neun.   


Author Notes: **Please pay attention to this**. The information contained within will probably help you in reading the fanfic. 

First, I'd like to dedicate this fic to the people that put up with my whining when I was having a hard time writing it. Those people would be Kalen, Darwin Delantri, NickelS., Sailor Celaeno, Cleckmoon, and Oboe-wan. Every one of these people have accounts on ff.net, so if you're looking for good fics, I strongly urge that you check each of them out. 

Secondly, this is only the prologue of a longer plot. Hence, things may not make an ounce of sense to you at this point. I am trying to be fairly mysterious and not spoil anything just yet. However, everything WILL be explained. It'll take me the next couple chapters to really delve into the plot and make sure that everything is fairly clear. I just ask that you go with the flow and please be patient with me for the time being. 

Thirdly, because this is a fantasy AU, I have created a world different than the one in GW. [Duh.] If you're uptight about things such as accuracy in the detailing of cultures, then I'll warn you now that I'm blending a lot of different societies here. There are themes from both Eastern and Western cultures throughout this fic, just to let you know. 

One last thing that needs to be mentioned ---- I'm not sure when I'm going to have the time to work on this again, as my classwork is starting to step up the pace now that I'm moving into the middle of the semester. I also have a few other one-shots that I have been putting off so that I could work on this prologue, and I would like to get to them in the next open spot of free-time that I have. Hence, updating on this fic is probably going to be fairly slow, not that that comes as a shock anyway. Just about everyone knows that I write ungodly slow anyway. >_ 

Anyway, thanks for putting up with this, and I hope I haven't managed to scare you off from reading the fic, as I sometimes tend to do.   



End file.
